Dance Until We Die
by randomee
Summary: Fate: That which is inevitably predetermined; destiny.


60 years from now, one will lay on the hospital bed, barely hanging on, knowing his time will be up soon, too soon. The other holds his hand, the only thing he can do, something that has been so symbolic for them throughout the years. They speak of memories they can barely remember, and memories that are clear as day. Flowers sit on the bedside table, brought from solemn grandchildren, children, and friends. The sun shines bright outside and the radio plays soft music to fill the silence. One puts in a cd, ancient by these days, the modern technology now far more advanced than what they could ever have imagined. The music becomes more than background sounds when familiar songs begin to play. One hums the songs in the other's ear, bringing those hazy memories into a clearer light. They've stayed strong for so long, but now the tears begin to spill, knowing it will end soon, but they promise it's never goodbye, a promise made many years ago, and nothing, not even death will be able to separate them. Hands grip tighter and they continue their conversations, something they have never been able to run out of. They were proud and strong, _no regrets, just love._

50 years from now, they will sit on the porch swing, watching the deep red, bright orange, and fading yellow sunset, leaning into each other, with the comfort of knowing that each other is there, and this is how it will always be. Two small pairs of feet come running out to join them, one begging for a bedtime song, the other begging for a bedtime story. They begin to argue, then are pulled into the laps, and are convinced to compromise, a bedtime story as a song. They can see the familiar bright eyes, in awe and wonder, passed on from their children, from themselves. One sings of dragons and adventures, while the other joins in with a strong note about a princess and her prince, and both come together for a happily ever after. The grandchildren are easier to tuck into bed now, ready for their parents to come pick them up in the morning from a visit that was too short. They leave the room with the sleeping children, and interlace their fingers, a touch so familiar, yet new every time. A new type of awe and wonderful looks are shared between them, not changing since they have been teenagers. One begins to softly sing a new made-up tune, pulls the other close, and they sway to the made-up beat, with unspoken words of love between them.

40 years from now, they receive words of the first of a new generation has been born into their family. He has his mother's eyes, his father's nose, and they are certain of it, his grandfather's smile. They joke around, warning of the horrors of being a new parent, warning as long as he's not like the nightmare like his parents when they were young, they should be alright. After the short conversation was cut off by the newborn's cries, they said their goodbyes. They shared knowing glances, their child, in which it feels like they just brought home, into their tiny apartment, will now bring their own child to their own home. It felt all too soon, it made them feel _old._ Laughter filled the room, they weren't old, not yet, they still felt like teenagers, and still just as in love.

30 years from now, their hearts will swell with pride as their oldest child walks across the stage and receives their high school diploma. It has been a long journey, but they know every moment was worth it, and every moment to come will be also. They wonder, however, when did this moment come, when their child would be grown up, and in a few short months, move out of their home and go live on their own? After the ceremony, they greet their child with hugs and congratulations. The child leaves them after a few moments to go and greet a friend, no more than a friend, as they recognize the looks that are exchanged, looks that are all too familiar from when they were teenagers just graduated, they same looks they share that day. A realization dawned on both of them, soon there would be a new member of their family, and their child would be grown up a little bit more.

20 years from now, they will step into their new home, and marvel at the space that their old apartment in the city didn't have. There was a yard, with a fence, maybe now they can get a dog, maybe as a family Christmas present to share with their children. Boxes need to be unpacked, the walls are bare and need decorations, and the furniture needs to be organized, but they will get there, and soon this house will be home, _their home_. Meanwhile, they show their children the house, letting them pick out their rooms, because now they can get their own and won't have to share.

10 years from now, one will wonder how such a small box can feel so heavy in his pocket. He keeps putting his hand in his pocket, making sure the box will not disappear suddenly. He begins to get nervous, but tries to shake it off. They both knew this moment would come, and now it was perfect. The wandered through the brightly lit park, hands brushing, keeping their eyes on each other. The cool air, the moonlight, and the city noises created the atmosphere of a moment that had been building up for years. They finally reached the spot, everything was going so well, and one will prepare to begin the speech playing over and over in his mind, and reaches for the box in his pocket. When he finally opens his mouth, the other's ringtone will fill the silence instead of his voice. The other picks up, but soon collapses to the ground. There are a few words he hears, and he knows it's not a welcoming message. "Accident", "serious", "not looking good" are some of the words heard. The other runs into his arms, now is a moment for comfort. The heavy weight of the box is now lifted, now is not the time. Soon, though, soon it will be, but now, the other needs his comfort and protection.

5 years from now, tempers will flare. The strings barely holding them together by now are so very close to being severed. The pressure of the last year of college, of student teaching, of a cruel internship, and working full time jobs have got to them. Words are thrown around that they don't really mean, but they still burn. They are both so close to saying, "It's over" and "I can't do this anymore." They accuse each other of loving their job more than them, they spend too much time with their coworker, and how do they know that they are still telling the truth, how can they trust each other? But they can still. They have gone this long without a lie, they shouldn't start now. However, the fights continue, the lack of sleep and the mounting of pressure taking it's toll on their minds, so they're not thinking clearly. Their words grow harsher, and it gets so, so close, one even begins packing boxes. Until one moment they realize just how stupid they have been. They grasp at each other, never letting go, making new promises and remembering old ones. They can't go through this again, never again.

One year from now, everybody tells them they are crazy. High school romances aren't supposed to last, as proven by the musical chairs that their friends play. They know, however, they have things that their friends don't have, trust, honesty, they were best friends before lovers, they don't rush, they take their time. The future is looming closer with graduation nearing. But they don't worry. They have their own futures planned, but with each other. Never would they imagine a day without each other by his side. Everybody says that they're crazy, and maybe they are, but right now, they know what is right, and right is whatever the other is doing.

Six months from now, they sit at their usual spot in the coffee shop. One gazes at the other, in awe that this boy is his. He listens intently to the stories that are told. The crazy of the other team, no, his friends, never cease to amaze him. Somehow, it seems alluring, this brand of crazy. He gazes into the other's eyes, always so expressive, easy to read, like a book. He wonders out loud, why isn't he sad, it seems like something to be upset about. But then he lights up, the experiences he had were nothing to be sad about, they just opened a new door to his future, _their _future. Just then, the words dancing on his lips for weeks, no, months, slipped out. "I love you," he said. He didn't care if there was an answer, because he knew the other felt the same way, they were like that, they just _knew._ This short journey they have taken has been worth it, but it is no where close to over. But they know that they can make it to the end, because they have each other, and anything and everything will be more than worth it.

Today, however, is the beginning. One wakes up, beginning his same routine he goes through every day, he's content, not happy, but he's safe, and he knows that is what matters. But something inside him keeps nagging, he's a coward, he ran away, he will never be able to stand up. He blends in, that is all he asks for. The other is blending in more and more every day, and he hates it. He's turning invisible, but he thrives on standing out of the crowd. He begins to feel less and less like himself, like a shadow, he feels empty inside. However, today, their journey will begin, today, their lives will be changed forever, and it begins with a few simple words, "Excuse me, uh, hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."


End file.
